Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously-Chapter 268: Nathan’s suspicion

Nathan’s hands curled into fists on his knees. He hadn’t known. A flush of guilt and anger crept into his face. "I... I’m sorry," he muttered tightly, lowering his head with shame. "I didn’t know she said that. Megan has been pampered all her life. She never really understood how her words could hurt someone—"

"I don’t care if she is pampered, spoiled, or completely unhinged," Anne cut in sharply. "That’s your problem. Your family’s problem. I’m just glad I’m not part of it. Because if I were, I’d be forced to deal with yet another insecure, resentful woman lashing out at me for simply existing."

Her words struck with quiet, measured fury.

Nathan sat frozen, stunned into silence, fully grasping that Anne was drawing a comparison between Megan and the women who had tormented her life—Lorie and Patricia. That realization deepened his shame.

But beyond the sting of her words, another, more persistent feeling swelled in him, an ache he couldn’t ignore. As he kept looking at her, her features, her fire, even her stubborn pride, all reminded him of his mother. That quiet connection, that inexplicable pull—how could it be false?

His instincts screamed louder than any logic: ’This woman is Raya. She is my sister.’

But the DNA test had said otherwise.

Anne’s sharp voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. "I made myself clear," she said coolly, folding her arms. "You can leave now. And don’t appear here again. My husband won’t like it."

Her tone left no room for argument. Nathan stood up slowly, trying to compose himself. He offered a faint nod. "I understand. I promise, you won’t be bothered by me or my family again. Thank you for letting me in and speaking to me, even when you didn’t have to."

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

But as he stepped through the main door, he paused. His brows furrowed deeply, his features hardening. Doubts still crept into her mind.

’Why do I still feel like she is Raya?’ he wondered. ’Why do I feel this in my gut when everything else says no?’

A sudden, cold thought crossed his mind. ’What if the DNA report had been tampered with? What if someone didn’t want me to find her?’

His eyes darkened with resolve.

"I’ll find out the truth," he muttered under his breath. "If it means doing the test again, I’ll do it. I need to know. I need to be sure."

~~~~~~~~~~

When Augustine finally returned home, the weariness weighed heavily on him. His shoulders were tense, his steps slow, and a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He pressed a hand to the back of his neck, massaging the stiffness away as he made his way toward the bedroom, assuming Anne would be fast asleep by now.

But the moment he pushed the door open, he came to a complete halt.

The room was aglow in soft candlelight. A soothing scent of lavender lingered in the air, hitting his senses at once. It was comforting and oddly arousing.

His gaze landed on Anne, standing by the bed, lighting the final candle. She turned and smiled at him. The satin nightdress she wore shimmered faintly in the low light, hugging her figure in all the right places. She looked utterly breathtaking, and for a moment, Augustine forgot the exhaustion altogether.

Anne stepped closer, graceful and unhurried, her eyes never leaving his. Her hands reached up to slide his suit jacket off his shoulders. "You look tired," she said, her touch feathery light.

"I was," he replied as his arms encircled her waist, drawing her close. His desire flickered alive, banishing the last remnants of fatigue. "But seeing you like this, I feel like I could stay awake all night."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "And I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than have you."

Anne flushed at the low growl in Augustine’s voice. She gently pressed her palms to his chest, steadying herself and him. "Let me give you a massage first," she said in a coaxing tone. "Come."

She guided him toward the bed with a subtle tug, and he followed, curiosity mingling with anticipation in his eyes.

Once seated, she stood before him, hands moving with quiet purpose as she began unbuttoning his shirt, button by button. Each soft brush of her fingers against his skin sent jolts through him, kindling a fire beneath his skin that quickly smoldered into a blaze.

Augustine’s throat tightened, and he let out a breath. "Anne... what exactly are you trying to do?"

Her lips curled into a mysterious smile. "Helping you relax," she murmured with a slow, sultry undertone.

He raised an eyebrow. "By setting me on fire?"

"Hmm," she hummed, which sounded undeniably seductive to him. "Just enjoy it."

Once his shirt slipped off his shoulders, the cool air in the room kissed his skin, making him shudder slightly. But Anne’s fingers on his bare chest only made things worse. His restraint thinned, desire gnawing at the edges of his control. Still, he held himself back, remembering the precious life growing within her. He wouldn’t let his hunger get the best of him. Not yet.

Anne climbed onto the bed, settling behind him with fluid grace. He felt her reach over to the nightstand, heard the soft clink of a bottle, and then the faint pop of a cap. A soothing floral scent wafted to his nose.

"I’ve been watching you," she said softly as she poured the oil onto her palms. "You’ve been carrying the weight of everything on your shoulders. You barely sleep. When you come home, you are always worn out. I just... wanted to do something to make it easier for you, to unwind you, and make you feel better."

She rubbed her hands together to warm the oil, then pressed her palms to his shoulders, her touch melting into his skin. And as her fingers began to knead the knots in his muscles, Augustine let out a long, low sigh, his mind hazy with longing, his heart swelling with desire.

The temptation to turn and pull her into his arms grew stronger with each passing moment.

"Thanks," Augustine murmured with a soft smile, tilting his head slightly back toward her. "But honestly, I already feel better just seeing your smile."

Anne’s fingers trailed gently along his tense shoulders and said with playful certainty, "This will make you feel even better."

She poured a few more drops of the oil into her palms and leaned forward, her hands gliding expertly over the slope of his neck and down across his shoulders. Her touch was firm but soothing, and with each smooth stroke, she worked the stress out of his muscles, coaxing away the knots he hadn’t even realized had settled there.

Augustine’s eyes fluttered shut, a contented breath escaping his lips. Her hands found every tight point in his body, loosening them skillfully. His back eased, shoulders uncoiling, as if the day’s weight was finally slipping away under her touch.

"You are incredible at this," he mumbled with astonishment. "Where did you learn to do this?"

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